


Postcard

by angelbabe_cj



Series: Through Paint and Friendship [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelbabe_cj/pseuds/angelbabe_cj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The post sometimes proves interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcard

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Postcard' at DiaCon Alley 2011. Written in ~15 minutes. Edited later.  
> Set before Artistic Detachement... but after the first part of the series which is as yet unfinished.

Dean stared at the pile of post, unsure why it was taunting him so much this morning. He had simply picked it up from the box the delivery owls dropped everything in and gone to make coffee. He didn't have a free hand because the adapted machine was temperamental and required all of his remaining concentration. He needed coffee because he had been working all night.

Finally the coffee was ready and he took a gulp that nearly burned his mouth before starting to leaf through the pile.

Letter from Gringotts - boring  
Annoyed note from gallery manager demanding a list of artwork - pointless, he hadn't finished it all yet  
Letter from his little sister picked up from the Royal Mail - later  
Oh, a postcard with a little flock of multicoloured sheep rambling over a hillside.

That tugged at the pit of his stomach. He smiled and turned it over.

_Don't worry, I'll be back soon. The beaches are beautiful and I think I've almost seen the Humdinger a few times. I sent you a present too. Just tap._

 

It wasn't signed, but it didn't have to be. Luna was the only one who would be sending him postcards, especially ones with hidden messages.

He patted his pockets, and then remembered he had left his wand next to his easel when he had charmed the painting. Hurrying back to his studio he picked it up and tapped the back of the piece of card. When nothing happened he turned it over and almost dropped the card.

There she was, lying down, probably on the hill where the sheep had been. And she was naked and smiling in a way nobody else ever saw. As he watched she moved delicately and he knew he would be getting no more work done for, well, a while.


End file.
